The Guy of My Dreams
by magnanimosityy
Summary: Stiles was kind of obsessed with Derek and the way he didnt seem to care or pay attention to most things... until he became one of those things. (Sterek Romance) (AU) (Some OC's will show up) (Sex, Language, Violence, Homophobia)
1. Chapter 1

_**1.**_

There he was. The man of Stiles' dreams. Everything he had ever wanted and wished to have, and then some, sitting two rows in front of him. All Stiles could see was the back of his head, but he knew that he was making some awesomely sexy, broody face right now.

Derek's face was _always _sexy.

Stiles could remember the one time he had actually spoken to the guy. They were just leaving the classroom, and Stiles accidentally (intentionally) bumped into Derek and dropped all of his books in one, grand, dramatic motion. Derek, being Mr. Sexual Aloofness, just looked at Stiles as he knelt down and picked the books up before handing them to Stiles.

Stiles remembered saying thanks and then going weak in the knees when Derek replied with a simple, "Mmhmm."

That had been an eventful night for Stiles to say the least.

Right now, Professor D'Vanza was explaining some overly complex mathematical equation. And Stiles just _wished_ he could see the look on Derek's face. He knew it had to be one that was sure to drop every pair of panties in the room. Or, in Stiles' case, briefs.

Stiles never used to wear briefs. But then, one night when Stiles was looking up everything in the history of the world as he tends to do when he's bored, he found out that briefs made your ass look better. Needless to say, when Stiles saw Derek for the first time, it was the last day he wore boxers.

Well, he still wore them to sleep.

"Stilinski quit monitoring the guy."

Stiles rolled his eyes as he turned to his left to be met by the smug look of the one and only Jackson Whitmore. Yeah, out of all the people from back home that Stiles could have gotten stuck with, for four whole years, on the opposite side of the freaking country, Jackson had to be the one who not only applied and got into NYU, but chose to come and make Stiles' life a living hell.

Things were only multiplied tenfold when Stiles learned that they were rooming together, and that Jackson had actually _requested _to do so. His excuse had been something along the lines of not wanting to room with someone who would have sex nonstop.

Stiles didn't admit how deep that comment had actually cut.

Sighing quite loudly, Stiles turned back to face the front of the room where Professor D'Vanza was now writing something long and difficult looking across the board with his red marker. That meant that it was to be copied and completed for next class.

"I'm not monitoring him," Stiles quipped.

Jackson scoffed. "Your eyes are about to roll out of your head and across the floor you were staring so hard."

Stiles ignored the other boy's comment in favor of writing down the problem. As soon as he finished, everyone was dismissed and Stiles all but flew to the front of the classroom so that he could be in Derek's line of sight when he dropped pen and bent over to pick it up.

He didn't switch underwear types for nothing.

Stiles bent over to get the utensil, making sure that his ass was on full display. He even arched his back a little. He had no shame.

He stood back up and turned around expecting Derek to at least be looking in his direction, but what he _did_ see was some tall, skinny, _whore_ talking to the love of his life.

Well, to be honest, she wasn't a whore. Paris was nice enough, and she had never given Stiles any reason to not like her… until she announced that she thought Derek was cute. That was the day Stiles had labeled her enemy number one.

With her long jet black hair, and her slivery gray eyes, and her dumb modeling career that gave her access to unlimited amounts of high end clothing in which she could flaunt her perfect size zero body.

Actually, she was a size two. But Stiles liked to exaggerate.

Today, she was gallivanting around showing the world her freakishly long legs in a pair form fitting leather pants with sheer lace cutouts. And of course the outlandishly tall pair of nightwalkers she had on made her legs look even more perfect.

They made Stiles want to puke.

Jackson walked over to him and slung an arm around his shoulders.

"Looks like he's not interested, Stilinski."

"Shut up, Jackson. Nobody asked you," Stiles snapped back.

Jackson held his arms up in surrender, but then his face softened a bit. "Really though, Stiles. I don't even think he's into dudes," the blonde boy said.

Stiles took a moment to consider that comment. Sure, he had always known there was a chance that Derek was straight. In fact, Stiles had no real reason to believe that the guy was anything _but_. However, Stiles couldn't tell himself that. It would ruin the fantasy.

So he just shrugged and walked out, Jackson trailing behind shortly after.

Back in their dorm, which was really more like an apartment since they were the only two in the entire suite, even though it was made to accommodate six, Stiles was standing in the mirror holding shirts in front of him, trying to ascertain which one looked the best on him.

Giving up after a few minutes, Stiles padded back into his room and flew onto the bed, letting out a loud groan.

"This is so stupid!"

Jackson strolled in, wearing nothing but a towel, dripping water all over the place and put his hands on his hips.

"Come on, Stilinski. We're never gonna make it to the club if you don't start getting ready," he complained.

Stiles took a look at Jackson and groaned again, covering his face with a pillow.

"Dude, can you _not_ walk around basically naked all the time!? Isn't it awkward?"

"Isn't what awkward?" Jackson asked.

"You know…" Stiles drawled, sitting up and motioning between him and Jackson.

"No, I don't," the other boy said.

Stiles sighed again and fell back onto the bed. "I'm into guys and you're walking around showing off your body all the time. It's not like you don't know I'm looking," Stiles whined. He didn't like the fact that he found Jackson attractive. But there was nothing he could do about it. Jackson was hot, and he knew it. And apparently he wanted everyone else to know it too.

Smirking, Jackson turned to leave the room. "I knew you couldn't help yourself. Now get up and get in the shower before I throw you in myself."

After showering, and deciding on a totally new shirt all together, Stiles left out with Jackson and caught a cab to some club the other boy had been going on about for the past week. Stiles didn't really want to go, but Jackson kept insisting on how Stiles needed to get out and be more normal.

As if there was something weird about Stiles the way he was.

It didn't take them long to get to the club. And once they were there, Jackson used his charm to get them past the lines and straight in, not leaving the people outside too pleased.

Once they were in, Stiles took a look around. He had to admit, that it was definitely all Jackson had ranted about. The music was loud and pulsing through Stiles' bones, there were lights dancing around everywhere, _people_ dancing around everywhere. And there were certainly a great deal of hot guys around.

Stiles guessed being friends with Danny for so long had given Jackson an outlook from the gay perspective. But he tried not to think about Danny much.

The cuts were still a little fresh.

So he shook his mind free of that wave of thoughts that was about to crash down over him, and followed Jackson over to the bar.

"Uh… Jackson," Stiles yelled over the music.

"Yeah," the other boy yelled back.

"We're not old enough to get drinks yet. What are you doing?"

Jackson just rolled his eyes and slid the bar tender, a cute brunette girl, some unknown amount of money. Then he pointed to Stiles and said something to her, to which she nodded, and proceeded to get Jackson two beers. Then he walked back over to Stiles and handed him one.

"What did you do?" Stiles asked.

Jackson shrugged and took a swig from his bottle. "A few hundred bucks to cover the drinks and a couple hundred to cover our lack of identification," was all Jackson said before being pulled away by some girl onto the dance floor.

He just took one last swig form the bottle before handing it over to Stiles and following said girl.

Stiles stood there, two beers in hand, and tried to figure out what to do. It wasn't like anyone was fighting to drag him off to dance, and probably do other things afterwards, so he decided to just go sit at the bar and finish off the two beers, before ordering another.

Which was soon followed by another.

And another.

And another.

And another, all the way until Stiles was so out of it that he could barely sit up straight. Then, of course, he decided it was time to get up and dance.

Looking around through the blurry haze of his drunken stupor, Stiles stumbled from his seat and flounced around for a few feet before someone caught hold of him from behind.

He heard them say something, but between the obnoxiously loud music, and the lack of coherence caused by the abundance of alcohol in his system, Stiles couldn't make it out. The only thing he _could_ make out was the fact that whoever it wasthat was keeping him upright, had some very strong hands. And said hands felt really good holding him at the waist. So he leaned back.

And this person had the chest of a god. It was sculpted from pure marble, Stiles was sure.

And the breath that was now hitting the back of his neck, that was making Stiles horny. And he was even hornier now because he was so drunk and out of touch with anything in reality not having to do with sex and this person's hands on his waist.

"Yoorands… dey feel sooogood," Stiles slurred.

The other person said something, but Stiles couldn't quite get that either. So, he decided that if he couldn't hear them, he had to at least turn around. So he did.

And saw the man of his dreams.

"DEWEK! Wharyou doing here?" Stiles hollered a bit too loudly, considering he was face to face with the guy.

Derek said something back, but Stiles didn't catch it before he was dragging the man to the restroom, which, even as he was drunk of his ass, Stiles noticed were unusually clean. Especially for a nightclub.

Forcing Derek into a stall, Stiles went in after him and closed the door.

"Sex," Stiles was able to get out oddly clearly as he began to reach for Derek's belt.

Derek said something else, and pushed Stiles' hands away.

But Stiles was a persistent drunk if nothing else and he just continued to reach for the boy's belt buckle until Derek grabbed his hands and held them to his sides with all of his strength.

"Stop!"

Stiles heard that. But he didn't. In fact, while Derek was so busy with holding his hands down, Stiles started to lift his knee up and gently rub it against Derek's groin. And for a while, Stiles was satisfied that Derek seemed to lose his resolve for a minute as his eyes went half lidded and he began to slowly grind against Stiles' leg.

But then, he stopped and shook Stiles a little. Now, Stiles wasn't into sado-machosism, but having Derek hold him still and shake him like that made the boy suddenly a million times hornier, and he put his knee back up and repeated his earlier actions.

This time however, Derek didn't fight back as strongly, and the way his face softened in pleasure was all Stiles needed to know that he had the boy right where he wanted him. And, with his knee (or thigh now) still in between Derek's legs, he moved forward and kissed him.

A first, Stiles was met with some resistance, but when he moved his leg and crept his hand down the front of Derek's pants to fondle his now obvious erection, Derek moaned a bit and Stiles took the opportunity to probe the inside of Derek's mouth with his tongue.

I tasted like beer and something sweet. Chocolate maybe? He wasn't sure, but Stiles liked it, and he kept gently licking Derek's tongue for the next few minutes until the man was out of breath and gasping for air.

Stiles lifted away to allow him to breathe, but only to drop to his knees in front Derek and begin to undo his belt, and then his fly.

Derek tried feebly to stop Stiles, but the attempts were only half hearted, as his now bulging erection spoke to his true desires. And those desires were just what Stiles wanted to fulfill.

Pushing Derek's pants down to his knees, Stiles began to slowly pump the man's member while running his tongue under the smooth head. He continued this act, licking the tip of Derek's cock until the man whimpered a bit.

Funny how Stiles could hear that.

Once he heard that, Stiles took it as signal to take the whole thing into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing once he felt the head reach the back of his throat.

Derek steadied himself with one hand on the side of the stall and ran the other through Stiles' short hair. He gently massaged Stiles' head as the boy slowly bobbed his head back and forth, moaning every so often. Derek let out a few more moans himself, as he let his head fall back in ecstasy.

After a while though, Stiles stopped and stood up, pushing Derek down onto the toilet seat. He then proceeded to drop his own pants and suck on his fingers to wet them enough so that he could stick them into his ass, preparing himself for what he _really_ wanted to happen.

Derek's pupils were blown with lust as he watched Stiles stick first one, then two, and finally three fingers into himself and begin to stretch himself out for entrance. After a while, Derek couldn't wait any longer and lifted the boy up and held him face first against the stall.

Stiles held himself up with both arms and tried to look back at Derek, but the man forced his head back around as he continued to hold Stiles' up with his hips, while lining his dick up for entrance with his free hand.

Stiles was surprised when he felt something pushing at his backside, and moaned loudly when it forced itself in.

Derek thrust himself in and out of Stiles until he felt himself nearing. Stiles began to feel a similar heat pooling in his lower abdomen, a tingling that let him know he was nearing his climax as well.

Stiles pumped himself until he came all over the side of the stall with a moan of bliss. His clenching muscles became too much for Derek and the man too let out a moan of his own as he emptied his load inside of Stiles. Then he pulled himself out and quickly pulled his pants up.

Stiles did the same as he turned to face Derek but the other male didn't look as happy as Stiles would have expected. In fact, he looked lost. And when he finally looked Stiles in the eye, he all but ran out of the stall and out of the restroom.

Stiles, still drunk of course, didn't quite get what was going on, and so he just wandered out of the restroom until he ran into Jackson, who had been looking for him.

"Jesus, Stilinski," was all Stiles heard, and the next thing he knew, he was being undressed and put into his bed.

_**SO, what do you think. Ive got some ideas running around my head, but should this continue? Let me know what you think?**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**2.**_

Stiles woke up the next morning to a throbbing headache and his ass felt like it had been through a blender. He sat up and groaned loudly, rubbing his temples and trying to find a comfortable position to sit in. Of course, he didn't, and he just ended up lying back down and groaning in pain again.

He tried to remember last night, but nothing came to him. The only thing Stiles was able to recall was going to the club with Jackson, the asshole ditching him for some girl, and then being put in bed. Then of course he woke up to this shooting pain in his backside.

Which only meant…

"I had sex!" Stiles yelled out to no one but himself. It just didn't sit right with him. Stiles wasn't the kind of guy who got drunk and had sex with random people. Especially not if he wasn't going to remember it.

Doing his best to ignore the feeling of putting pressure on his ass, Stiles sat up and slid out of bed. If he thought sitting was bad, Stiles had no idea how horrible _standing _was going to be. Until he stood of course.

Wanting to stretch, but unable to due to the discomfort every slight movement caused to course through his small body, Stiles just did his best to walk with as little a limp as he could. Which was still quite a dramatic limp.

"Whoever fucked you fucked you _good_, Stilinski."

Stiles sighed both in pain and irritation as soon as he heard Jackson's voice. He had hoped that the boy had been off doing God knows what in the city, but alas, here he was, coffee in one hand, a book in the other. Stiles looked more closely to see that it was a book on human behavior.

He didn't quite know what major that topic would fall under, but then if Jackson would have just told Stiles what his major was, Stiles wouldn't have had to try and make all of these educated guesses. But, the way Jackson put it; it was none of Stiles' business what his major was because he "wouldn't be signing any paychecks for him".

Stiles liked to dream that one day he _would_ be signing Jackson's paycheck, but it was most likely never going to be the base. One; because Stiles could never sit in an office job long enough to get to the level where he actually became the person who signed paychecks. And two; because if by some strange happening in the universe Stiles _did_ get to that level of corporatism, he could never sit still long enough to _sign_ the checks.

But Stiles would never be in an office anyway. He went to school to become a translator. He had discovered after years of googling everything on the face on the earth, and translating Latin, Japanese, and Greek, which he actually found the most difficult, that he liked to interpret languages and learn them. So, why not make a living doing it?

His favorite was Greek. But that was only because no one ever spoke it unless they were actually from Greece. You could find a few people who knew Latin, and even more who knew Japanese, but never Greek. And Stiles liked to feel like he had something over everyone else.

Getting his mind back to the present, Stiles looked at Jackson who had a sly grin slapped on his face as he sat his book down.

"Save it, Jackson. I don't wanna hear it, I don't wanna hear you. Why are you even here right now?" Stiles asked as he made his way over to the small refrigerator in the kitchen like area their suite had.

"Because I live here, Stilinski, and if you would stop being such a dick, you would see that I was nice enough to get you something while I was out," Jackson replied, his tone a bit more agitated than before.

Stiles slowly straightened up, feeling the pins of 'the morning after' stab him in his lower back. Pair that with the pounding headache he had, and today didn't look too bright.

He looked over beside the microwave and sure enough, there was a small cup sitting beside a brown paper bag from some shop Stiles had seen as he walked down the street before.

Picking the cup up, Stiles looked at Jackson. "You know I can't have caffeine-"

"Because it makes you too excited. Do you think I'm an idiot, Stilinski? I don't want you running around here messing my shit up any more than you want me punching you in the face for doing it. I got you decaf," Jackson explained. Then Stiles picked up the bag and began to open his mouth again before Jackson stopped him once more. "And a bagel, because I don't want to give you any sugar. Did you want to test my knowledge of how severe your dysfunctional-ness can be or are you gonna say thank you?"

Stiles didn't know what to say. It wasn't like Jackson and he were friends. He didn't even know that Jackson knew about his ADHD, but rather just thought Stiles was weird. So, this was kind of awkward for him.

"Uhh… thanks," Stiles said after a few uncomfortable seconds of Jackson looking at him with an expectant expression written across his face.

Jackson just huffed and went back to sipping his coffee and reading his book.

Stiles took up the seat next to the blonde boy and opened his bag reaching in and pulling the bagel out. That was when Stiles felt like an utter asshole. Jackson, somehow, knew to get Stiles the cinnamon raisin bagel. It was his favorite, and the only kind he ever ate. It was like his type of treat, since he didn't eat donuts or cake or things like that due to the sugar rushes he was prone to get. The cinnamon raisin bagel was just sweet enough to pacify Stiles' sweet tooth, while not causing him to melt down at the same time.

He took a bite and reveled in the flavor before scooting closer to Jackson, causing the other boy to peek over form the corner of his eye for a second. Then, when Stiles finished chewing, he opened his mouth to say something, but Jackson cut him off. The boy seemed to like doing that.

"Oh no, Stilinski. We're not friends. I just always see you eating them and picked it up. Don't think that from now on we're gonna be braiding each other's hair and sharing secrets. I'm only living with you because-"

"You didn't want to live with someone who would always be having sex, I know," Stiles finished. "But thanks anyways."

Jackson rolled his eyes and sighed, but Stiles could see the traces of a small smile playing on the corner of his mouth.

"Whatever."

* * *

Stiles had just finished his paper for English and was leaving out his favorite cyber café. He had stumbled across it about three weeks back and hadn't been able to stop coming to it since.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he bumped into someone and fell back onto the pavement. He looked around and saw that the person he ran into was Paris, and she too was sitting on the ground.

Stiles didn't feel _good_ about that, but if she had knocked him over without taking a spill herself, he would have been a little embarrassed.

"Stiles!" she exclaimed as she stood up and dusted herself off. Stiles took a look at her outfit today, something he made a habit of doing ever since he started to 'hate' her. Even though the girl wasn't really hate-able.

She had on a red, slim fitting pantsuit with a simple white blouse underneath. It was buttoned all the way up, and had an intricate golden chain necklace hanging from under the collar. Her shoes were black strappy high heel sandals.

"Hey, Paris. What's up?" he responded, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

She smiled and flipped her hair, digging into her purse and pulling out her phone.

"Give me your number," she all but demanded. Her voice wasn't forceful in any way, but for some reason, Stiles wasn't able to say no as he took the device and proceeded to put his number in.

"Why did you want my number?" Stiles asked, suddenly a feeling of pride swelling up inside him at the thought of a freaking _model_ wanting his phone number.

"My cousin is coming into town, and he's never been here," Paris supplied. "So I was wondering if you would show him around."

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows for a moment. Why was she asking him to show her cousin around? Shouldn't that be her job?

"Why don't _you _show your cousin around?" Stiles asked.

Paris took her phone back and smiled again. Stiles wanted to gag her teeth were so perfect. He would have bet his entire life's savings that they weren't that perfect _before_ she was modeling. In fact, Stiles would go as far as to say that _nothing _about her was this perfect.

"Well, I thought he would like to be shown around town by a cute guy," she said, causing Stiles to blush. "And I have a shoot from noon to nine when he gets here so I won't even be able to get him from the airport let alone show him around."

Of course there was more. There was always more when it came to Stiles. No one simply offered things to him, or in this case, offered him to someone else, without there being some type of 'and' at the end of it. It was something Stiles had gotten used to, but still hated.

"How did you even know I was into guys?" Stiles asked, genuinely curious. He didn't think he was obvious. It's not like he walked around in tight clothes and stared down every guy that walked buy.

"I mean, you do right?" she asked. Stiles nodded and scratched the back of his neck. "Then what does it matter? Don't worry, he's really cute. He's from San Diego; got that whole sun kissed surfer thing going on."

"When's he going to be here?" Stiles asked, his agreeing to take the boy out implied in the question.

Paris just smiled.

* * *

Stiles felt like an idiot. When Paris had said that she wouldn't be able to show her cousin around when he got here, she failed to mention that they dude was getting here _today_.

Stiles stood at the end of terminal 3 inside of JFK airport and held a sign with the name 'Alpha', shifting form foot to foot. He was a little nervous of meeting the guy. Who wanted to be met at the airport, in a city that they had never been to before, by a person who they had never seen before? Stiles wouldn't, and so there was no way this guy would have.

Shifting his weight one more time, Stiles noticed a tan guy with a sexy mess of sandy blonde locks on his head. The guy had a couple of bags and was wearing slim, cut off shorts, a tank top and lace less chucks... in January. Stiles knew that that had to be the guy he was waiting for and a surge of… something, ran through him as he waved out to the boy.

Seeing him, the guy walked over with a huge smile on his face, his white teeth gleaming as he dropped his bags in front of Stiles and pulled him into a hug.

"You must be that Stiles dude! How's it hanging, bro?" the boy, Stiles figured it was safe to assume it was Alpha, said as he squeezed the air out of Stiles.

Stiles tried to answer the question, but all he was able to think about was how strong this guy was and that his feet weren't touching the ground because he was being held up in the air. And then he couldn't think about anything but how sexy it was that Alpha could pick him up like that.

Stiles had a bit of a fetish for strong guys, especially the big ones who could throw him around a little. Not in an abusive way, but just in the 'fuck him into the sheets' way. That was why he had such a huge crush on Derek in the first place. The guy was huge.

But right now, Derek was the last thing on his mind as Alpha sat him down and looked Stiles over once before a smile took over his face again.

"Dude, it's like so cold here. My nipples are so hard," he said.

Stiles' eyes immediately shot to the boys chest and saw that yes, his nipples were very visible through the tight tank top he was wearing. Licking his lips, Stiles slowly tore his eyes away from the broad chest standing less than two feet away from him and looked up to the owner of said chest's face. Where he was met with a set of blue eyes. The bluest eyes he had ever seen. They were even bluer than Jackson's. Where the other boy had a type of gray-blue mixture, Alpha had just pure blue orbs. And Stiles had forgotten anything he had been about to say.

Looking away for a quick second in order to collect himself, and will away the erection that had weaseled its way into his pants, before speaking.

After a few moments of deep breathing, and secretly readjusting himself, Stiles looked back to Alpha who was looking around at everything with a smile still on his face.

"So, you're from San Diego." It was more of a statement than a question, but Stiles didn't know what else to say.

'_You're fucking hot and I want you to fuck me right now.'_ That probably wouldn't have worked out well.

Alpha looked back at Stiles and gave him a once over again, making Stiles feel both self conscious and hot at the same time.

"Yeah, dude! How'd ya know?"

"Paris told me," Stiles said rather slowly as if it was a given. Which, to anyone with sense, it should have been.

"Oh. Cool. You ready, dude?"

"Yeah, come on," Stiles said as he reached down to pick up one of Alpha's bags, but when he tried to lift it up, he almost fell over because it was so heavy.

Alpha's laughter was strong as he put a hand on Stiles' back to steady him.

"You're cute, dude." He said.

And that was all Stile's was able to think about for the entire ride back to Paris' place. Because of course she had an apartment that her modeling agency paid for and of course it was downtown on the lower east side, and of course it was extremely expensive and nice looking. _But, _she had been nice and trusting enough to give Stiles her spare key to let himself in when he and Alpha got there. Stiles supposed he should give her some points for that.

But, getting back on topic, Stiles hadn't been able to get the fact that Alpha called him cute out of his head. It just felt so good; hearing someone say that. No one _ever_ said that. The last time Stiles could remember someone calling him cute was when he was dating Danny. The boy would always tell Stiles how cute he was, and how innocent his eyes were. Stiles got used to it, and so when it stopped all of the sudden, he kind of missed it… a lot.

So hearing it, Stiles couldn't help but get a little obsessed. It gave him back some of that feeling he used to get when he was with Danny. The feeling he would get whenever he saw the boy. Before he found out what was going on with…

Stiles shook his head. He didn't like to think about Danny. It still hurt, even after all these months. He wasn't sure if it would ever _stop_ hurting. The pain was just so specific. It wasn't anything like when he realized that Lydia would never have loved him. Because at least Lydia had never said she did. Not until after Stiles stopped fawning over her and she didn't feel like she had to act like he didn't exist anymore, and they became best friends.

Yeah, that was what had happened. As soon as Stiles had gotten over his crush on her, Lydia just came up and said hi to him one day. Out of the blue. Just like that. She walked over to him at lunch and sat down and started talking. It was weird, but it wasn't awkward. They had easy conversation. And eventually, Lydia became one of Stiles' best friends.

And that's when she admitted that she had always known Stiles liked her, so she ignored him hoping he would get the point. Which, or course, he never did. And for that, Stiles felt like the biggest idiot in the world. Of course he _knew_ Lydia didn't like him, but he had always thought that it was because she didn't notice him. He never in a million years would have thought that the reason she didn't seem to notice him was because she _did_ in fact _know_ that he liked her.

That had been a kick in the gut. But, he didn't take it personally, and now they were as close and could be, especially since Lydia went to Parsons just halfway across Manhattan and they hung out all the time.

Which Jackson didn't like too much, but hey, Stiles couldn't please everyone.

Sitting on the sofa in Paris' living room, Stiles listened as the shower ran down the hallway. Alpha had decided that he needed to take one before going out, and so Stiles was just waiting for the boy to come out, taking the time to think about (or trying to think about since he couldn't really keep his mind off of the giddy feeling being complimented gave him) what had happened at the club last night.

The only thing Stiles could get through his head was that Jackson was most likely… _was_ right, and that he had had sex with someone. Stiles knew the feeling, no matter how long it had been. But that was it. He couldn't even remember getting drunk enough to have some crazy bathroom sex. It was so irritating. If Stiles was going to have sex with someone, he needed to be able to remember it. It wasn't like he got laid frequently.

So, when nothing came to him, Stiles gave up and sighed loudly when he heard that the water had stopped and the bathroom door opening. He could think more about it later if he wanted, but obviously nothing was going to come to him. The entire night was lost forever, and Stiles just hoped it wasn't something he was going to regret. He decided to go get himself checked for anything the next day.

When he heard the sound of footsteps padding down the hall, Stiles turned around and he could feel his jaw hit the floor.

"I couldn't find the towels dude," Alpha said as he strolled into the living room, completely nude.

"Uhhh…"

"So where are we going?"

Stiles didn't know what to say as he felt his eyes glued to a particular part of Alpha's anatomy. He just sat there, his mouth trying to form words, but none coming out, watching as the boy stood right beside Stiles, and opened up one of his bags.

Alpha looked over when he didn't hear an answer, and noticed Stiles' staring.

"You like it?"

Stiles looked up and felt his face heat up.

"Uhh… sorry. I didn't mean to stare," Stiles said, doing his best not to look out of the corner of his eye as he looked away.

Alpha pulled out a pair of jeans with holes at the knees and slipped them on.

"It's cool, bro. Everyone does," the boy said, fastening the button to his pants.

The fact that he hadn't put on any underwear was not lost on Stiles' end.

"Oh… I mean… it's nice," Stiles said as he felt himself beginning to blush even more. Then he mentally smacked himself in the face. What the hell did that even mean? _'It's nice_." How creepy did that sound?

"Thanks," Alpha said, pulling a really tight Henley over his head. "I think it means like, 'love everyone' or some philosophical shit like that."

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows and looked back at the now fully clothed blonde.

"Huh?"

"My tattoo. That's what you were lookin at right?"

Stiles' eyes widened for a second, then he let out a deep breath and smiled. He hadn't been caught.

"Yeah! Yeah, that's what I was looking at," he rushed out. "So, I guess we can go get something to eat it you want." Stiles was already standing up and heading for the door.

* * *

The rest of the day went pretty well. Stiles showed Alpha around, and the two had some pretty… interesting conversation. Stiles quickly realized that Alpha was nowhere near intelligent. In fact, the guy was frighteningly simple. At one point, Stiles had struck up a conversation about his favorite authors and Alpha said that he liked 'that guy who wrote the _Goosebumps _books', to which Stiles replied, "R. L. Stine?"

And Alpha had said, "No, I don't like that one. It was so sad how all the villagers killed wanted to kill him."

That was _Frankenstein_, but Stiles bit his lip. Because Alpha made up for what he lacked in brains, in total, utter, hotness.

Stiles caught himself just watching the boy and how the smallest things seemed to interest him. When they had gone to Times Square, all of the lights and flashing signs seemed to have the blonde boy in pure awe. He had almost walked into several people while he was looking up. In fact, he _did_ walk into a couple of girls, and when they turned around to give him an earful, their expressions changed as soon as they saw him. One even asked _him_ if she could give him _her_ number.

Stiles could admit to having been a little jealous. And that jealousy kind of made him start to feel a little territorial. It was natural!

So when some girl started staring at him on the train, Stiles grabbed Alpha's hand, making some excuse about not getting lost. Luckily, the boy was so… he didn't want to say it, but dumb, that he hadn't noticed anything.

All in all though, it had been a good day.

And as Stiles sat in class the next morning, he had the biggest smile on his face. The biggest smile he had had in a long time.

"So, don't forget people, midterms in just a couple of weeks. Be ready. Anything we cover between now and the class before is game to be on the test," Professor Smith said as he dismissed everyone.

Stiles gathered his things and stood up

"Stiles! Wait up," Paris yelled after him.

Stiles turned around and smiled, more so because there was already one on his face and it was easier to just leave it there.

"Hey, Paris. What' up?"

She walked up to him, and Stiles noticed that she looked somewhat more relaxed today than usual. Her clothes were still expensive looking, but more causal. It was weird seeing her look like… a normal person.

"Stiles. I just wanted to say thanks for taking Alpha out," she said, her usual smile in place. Stiles had to admit, for all her irritating perfection, Paris was actually one of the nicest people he had met. It kind of made him feel bad about all the horrible things he had thought about her.

But she needed to back off of his man.

"Sure, yeah. He's really cu… cool." Stiles felt a blush creeping up his face after that little slip up.

"Yeah, I told you he was a cutie," Paris said smugly. "Hey, have you seen Derek around?"

Stiles felt his stomach tighten a bit. He could always have pretty easy small talk with Paris… until she brought up Derek.

"No, I haven't. Why?"

Paris shifted her weight to one side and sighed, pushing her hair behind her ear. A sullen look suddenly took over her face.

"Nothing. I just… we were at a club two nights ago. You know that really popular one downtown? Anyway, I remember him going to get a drink, and he just never came back. I haven't seen him since."

Stiles' eyes widened to epic proportions and his mouth fell open. When he heard that, something came rushing back to him. He remembered being at the bar. It shouldn't have been that hard to recall, seeing as he was apparently drunk enough to not remember anything from the night. But that wasn't all he remembered.

He remembered some guy's hands on his waist.

"No… you two were on a date?" Stiles asked.

Paris nodded. "Yeah. I finally convinced him to go out a couple days ago at the end of class, and he agreed. But… I guess… he didn't really want to."

She sighed again as she waved wand walked off leaving Stiles with the dumbest look on his face. He thought maybe he _did_ know where Derek had been that night.

_**So, before anyone gets upset, yes this is a Stiles and Derek romance. LOL But Stiles is gonna have some fun along the way! Again, if anyone is willing to Beta for me, i would love the help! Tell me what you're thining so far!**_

_**DontBreakMyHeartAgain: Yeah, you got it right. Jackson dosnt hate Stiles here, but that doesnt mean he's going to admit to them being friends! LOL! Yeah this is completely AU and the rest of the gang isnt really gonna be here. Lydia is gonna appear, cause she's in NYC too, Danny is Stiles' ex, as you can see, so he's gonna play a big role in Stiles' mind and stuff. Scotts his bestfriend still, and Allison is dating Scott still so thats that. But thy arent in New York so they wont really be around. everyone else like Erica Boyd and Isaac will i havent really figured out how they will work in yet, but im sure they will. NO WEREWOLVES! And Derek is... OOPS you have to read and find out huh?**_


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